In Love With A Psycho
by Michael-P
Summary: After an incident that cost Amanda's life, Michael meets an old friend, Trevor, once again. They get into lots of fights, and eventually make up. But, maybe the two will resolve their differences once and for all? Multiple chapter story still in progress. NOTE: There will eventually be some sexual themes, so be advised.
1. Death is my Worst Nightmare

There it was. The gravestone of his once beloved wife. Michael bent down and set a flower on the grave, his hands moving to the cold granite of the gravestone before him. In the engraving it read, _In loving memory of Amanda De Santa. 1970-2013. A beautiful wife and mother of two, she will be missed greatly. _Michael tore up, dropping his head as his fist slammed against the granite gravestone.

"Shit!" He exclaimed loudly, the warm tears sliding down his cheeks. "I.. I'm sorry Amanda.. I fucked up.. I got you killed.. F-fuck.." His cries turned into sobs as he shook his head in utter regret and disbelief. "I.. was only thinking about myself.. I-I hadn't realized that.. it would cost you your life.." He continued to sob until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, a familiar voice followed, making him freeze up.

"Hey Mikey.. I'm uh, sorry 'bout Amanda.." Michael cringed slightly at the voice. _Shit.. I thought after we popped all them guys, Trevor went with 'em! _Michael let out a shaky sigh before brushing the hand off his shoulder, gripping the edge of the tombstone for support to help him stand.

"Don't be sorry, T. You know it ain't your fault she died." Trevor, in his usual attire let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I know Mike. I just wanted to give ya some sympathy. Your wife died and now you're all alone." Michael looked to his friend and sniffled, his hand rubbing the tears from his eyes. "I ain't all alone.. I got you and the kids.. and Frank too, but he ain't here.." Trevor just shook his head.

"Ya gotta think positive, Mikey. Ya have friends who love you. Ya have your kids." Michael looked to him before dropping his head. "I don't understand what you mean.. I have no friends.. everyone just wants me fucking dead. You 'n Frank are really the ones I can call a 'friend'. Ya tried to kill me in the past since you found out 'bout Brad, but that's really it." He continued to cry before Trevor let out a groan.

"Come here, you." He grabbed Michael's arm, tugging him closer until the other was pushed to his chest. Michael gasped quietly when Trevor pulled him closer, hugging him lightly.

"I'm still really sorry Mike.." Michael's eyes closed before he clenched Trevor's shirt, sobbing into it, the Canadian rubbing Michael's head. "There, there.. let it all out. It'll be all right pal.." After Michael stopped his crying, he pushed the other away. "You smell like shit." Trevor grinned. "I know, Mikey. It's hard to shower with no running water." Michael rolled his eyes and slapped his chest softly before picking up his bag.

"Come on. I have a shower for you at my place." He said with a sly grin, looking to the Canadian before him. Trevor smirked. "Okay. I'll go along with you." Michael simply sighed, holding his hand out for the male before him. The Canadian complied, taking his hand and was slowly being towed to the car.

"So, Mike.. whatcha gonna do now that Amanda's gone?" Michael sighed, dropping his head. "I don't know.. try to forget, maybe?" Trevor nodded. "Ey, sounds like a good idea. Maybe you could move on and find someone else?" Michael just stared at the male. "I would if it was easy, T.. It's not easy to move on.." Trevor nodded, just staring into the distance. "I know, pal.. I know." Michael looked to him and opened his door, sliding into the car with ease, waiting for Trevor to get in. Michael gripped the key and turned it, the ignition turning on. Trevor got into the car, looking to Michael. "Say Mikey.." Michael looked to him and looked to the seat-buckle, then looked away. "Buckle. Then we talk." Trevor groaned obnoxiously and buckled himself then closed his door. "There we are Captain Moody Pants. Now can we talk?" Michael shrugged and backed out from the graveyard, beginning to drive home.

"I was wondering.. what are you going to do now that your wife is dead?" Michael looked to him. "What?" Trevor looked down and shook his head. "Never mind.." Michael groaned. "No, you asked a question and I didn't hear it. Ask it again." Trevor growled. "I asked what you're going to do now that your slutty wife is dead." Michael licked his lips and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Oh-ho. I see now. You're asking me since I'm single what am I going to do? I ain't gonna get whores if that's what you're thinkin. And a second thing, Amanda wasn't a slut." Trevor chuckled and leaned against the seat. "Right, right. That's your daughter."

Michael growled and abruptly stopped the car. "The fuck? You pitted me and now you're fucking insulting my family?" He rose his voice to the Canadian who leaned forward and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I am. Because your family is nothing but whores and fat shits who smoke themselves to sleep." Michael grit his teeth. "You're pushing those buttons again, Trevor. Any more tongue from you, and I will not hesitate in tossing you from my goddamn car." Trevor huffed and crossed his arms, looking out the window, remaining silent. "That's what I fuckin' thought." Michael remarked, continuing his drive home.

When he pulled into his driveway, Trevor threw the door open and walked inside, heading upstairs. "Don't be that way in my damn house, Trevor!" Tracey ran to her father, pulling him into a hug. "Daddy! Daddy! How was it?" He sighed and hugged his daughter back. "It was fine sweetie.. now, I've gotta get upstairs." She nodded and let her dad go. "Be careful Daddy.. Trevor is scary." Michael laughed as he walked to his room. "He ain't scary when he's sad, that's for damn sure." Michael walked into his bedroom and went to his wardrobe, changing out of his suit into a comfortable pair of jeans and a red polo shirt.

Michael went to relax on his bed, letting out a breath. He looked to the side-stand and saw the picture of him and Amanda, which made him tear up. He picked the picture frame up and studied the picture before the tears began falling from his clouded blue eyes. He clutched the picture to his chest and curled into a ball on the bed, sobbing softly. When Trevor got out of the shower, he changed back into his clothes and began walking downstairs but stopped when he heard Michael's faint cries. "Oh jesus christ Mike." He mumbled as he went to his bedroom, opening the door. Michael gasped and sat up, setting the picture on the stand. "What the hell, Trevor? Ever heard of knocking?" Trevor, feeling a bit of pity for him, walked over to him and sat on the bed. "I'm more of a just-enter-and-try-not-to-be-stabbed sorta guy." Michael shoved the other away, sniffling and wiping his eyes. "Come here, Michael you sad fuck you." Michael sighed and hugged the other, his fingers digging into his shirt as he closed his eyes. "I'm always here for you, Mike. Remember that."


	2. Damned Lies

Michael bit his lip as he was held by the man. He didn't understand what was going on but he somehow felt.. different. "T.. T.. let go. I'm fine now." Trevor nodded and let him go, standing up. "Sorry, I just got into it, I guess. It's been a long fucking time since I've seen you so miserable." Michael growled and pressed his hands against the bed, helping him stand up. "I am fucking miserable, Trevor! My kids are complete brats, my wife passed away, my best friend is a complete fucking psycho who would probably molest me in my sleep, and on top of all that, I got more money than I know what to do with. I'm completely miserable." Trevor shook his head. "No, no you're not. At least you have a family! Nobody gives a shit about me, Michael! You got people who love and care about you!" Trevor closed his eyes and walked over to the dresser, pressing his hands against it as he dropped his head.

"You're wrong." Michael said faintly, looking to the taller man. "I care about you, Trevor." Trevor laughed and lifted his head, looking to him once again. "Bullshit! If you cared about me, you wouldn't of pretended to be dead for 10 fucking years!" Michael growled. "It was you or ME! I didn't want you die, so _I_ took the fucking bullet! So did Brad! He was a fucking dick, but he cared about you too." Trevor blinked for a moment before he walked to the door. "Just be glad you got a goddamn family. My brother is dead, I don't know or give a fuck about where my father is, and my mother, being the damaged flower she is, is stuck in a fucking prison cell. Now, I'll be on my way. I'll have Wade come pick me up." He said in a saddened tone, opening the door before he walked out of the bedroom. Michael growled and kicked the dresser. "_Fuck_!"

As Trevor walked down the hall and down the carpeted stairs, he noticed Jimmy sitting at the kitchen table. He went over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey, then nodded to him. "Ey, Jimbo." He said as he leaned against the table, taking a sip of his drink. Jimmy jumped and looked over at him. "Oh.. oh hey Uncle T." Trevor waved using a few fingers touching the glass, then continued to drink the liquid until the glass was empty. He set the empty glass on the counter, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "What are you doing?" He asked the younger male. "Oh, I'm uh, filling out my job application to Burger Shot." Trevor chuckled and grabbed the application, reading it over. "Lie, lie, lie, truth, and lie. Why do you lie so much? Jesus, you're like your fucking father." Jimmy pouted and shook his head. "I am not! I'm not like that asshole one bit!" Trevor tossed the paper to the ground and pointed his finger at him. "Hey. Don't talk about your father that way. Yeah he may be an asshole, but he's still your fucking father. Show some respect, eh?" Jimmy raised his hands and nodded. "Y-yeah.. sure.. okay." Trevor nodded and slapped the table before pulling back. "Good! Now, I gotta call my business partner and have him pick me up."

Trevor pulled out his cellphone and stepped outside, dialing the number of his friend. "Hey, Wade? It's me, Trevor. Yeah I'm uh, stuck at Mikey's house and I need a ride back to Sandy Shores." He bit his lip before groaning. "Just come fucking get me or I swear to _god_ I will punish you again, and you know how I feel about that!" He hung up the phone and sat on the steps outside of Michael's front door, his hands covering his face as he groaned. "Jesus fucking christ.." He muttered to himself quietly. Michael silently stepped outside as well, sitting down beside Trevor with a cigar in his hand. "Hey, Trev." Trevor grunted and moved away from him, closing his eyes. "Get away from me Michael." Michael let out a sigh and lit the cigar, sighing as he smoked it. "Are you still pissed at me for saying I'm more miserable than you?" Trevor stayed silent but nodded softly. Michael shook his head and sighed. "Come on, Trevor.. we both know we're equally miserable." Trevor growled and ripped the cigar from his hand, tossing it on the ground. "Shut the fuck up, Michael! Nobody gives a shit about me!" He began to stand up but he was stopped by the feel of Michael's hand on his wrist, tugging him back down. "Look at me, Trevor." Trevor grunted again and turned to face the other man, looking into his eyes.

"I do." Trevor looked to him, shaking his head. "No, stop lying to me. You don't care." Michael grabbed his wrist again. "I do. I may've lied to you in the past, but I'm telling the truth. I give a shit about you, I care about you." Trevor began speaking but was quickly cut off by Michael. "In fact I.." He shook his head and stood up. "Yeah, you better go. I think Wade's here." Trevor nodded and stood up, walking out to the car that had pulled up. "Wade, move over! I'm driving!" Wade grunted as he was shoved out of the car, rubbing his bottom as he walked to the other side of the car. Trevor closed the door and began driving out of the driveway, driving towards his home. Michael entered the house and shuddered, closing his eyes. "Jesus fuck, Trevor.." Michael sighed and rubbed his arm, going to the living room where he then sat on the couch, smiling to his children. "So, what're you watching?"


	3. Accepted Apologies

It was about late morning when the alarm clock went off. Michael rolled over on his side and stretched his arm out lazily, trying to find the snooze button. His fingers trailed down the side of the clock, before he formed a fist and slammed down on the snooze button, quickly sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He soon muttered, "Ah fucking hell..", then stretched and yawned, blinking a couple of times. He turned his head and his eyes quickly glanced at the clock which read; '9:40'. He groaned and threw the covers away from himself. "Dammit, I'll be late for work." He stepped out of his bed and slid on a pair of his slippers before he walked out from his bedroom into the bedroom, starting the shower. He closed and locked the door then proceeded to undress and slide into the shower, groaning as he leaned his head against the cold shower wall. He closed his eyes as he freshened up.

After his shower, Michael stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying off. After he dried off, he walked back into his room and went to his wardrobe to find some clothes to wear. He put on a formal outfit; a black tuxedo top, white tie, black slacks, finished off with gray smart shoes. He sighed as he tightened his tie, heading downstairs. Jimmy was already up, watching TV. Michael went straight for the whiskey, pouring himself a glass. Jimmy looked up and rose a brow. "Dad? Are you drinking at 10 in the morning?" Michael nodded and quickly finished his drink, setting the empty cup down. "Yeah, hey, I love you Jimbo. I gotta get to work. Tell Tracey I love her." Jimmy nodded and waved to him.

Michael quickly went to the front door, feeling his pockets for his keys. When he found them he smiled and ripped them from his pocket, walking to the driver's side of the car, opening the door. He groaned before he slid inside, sticking them in the slot. He soon turned the key, turning the engine on. Before he began driving he leaned back in his seat and bit his lip, thinking. As he thought he took out his cellphone and dialed a number before he began speaking to the person on the other end, his fingers curling around the steering wheel.

Back at Trevor's trailer, Trevor was outside on his porch, sitting on the couch, peering over the side railing as he drank a beer. "I really hate fuckin' birds." He mumbled to himself, tossing the empty beer bottle over the railing when he finished his beer. He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes, about to fall asleep when he heard a car approaching. He tossed his head forward and blinked. "Who the fuck-" He got up and walked down his steps, only to realize who was at his house. "Michael?" He walked to the car and tapped on the window, seeing Michael in the front seat. He rolled down the window so Trevor could talk to him. "Hey, T.. I decided to skip work to come talk to you." Trevor was taken back. He blinked and let out a grunt before stepping away from the car. "Uh, sure. Come on inside, Mikey."

Trevor waved towards his trailer and watched as Michael got out of the car and stretched, before making his way into his trailer. As Michael disappeared into the house, the Canadian followed after him. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the counter, looking to Michael who had found himself a seat on Trevor's sofa. "So er, wanna beer?" Michael shook his head. "I'm good, but thanks, T." The other shrugged and licked his lips, then nodded his head toward him. "Well, talk." Michael sighed and tugged on his tie, biting his lip as he looked up to Trevor. "I.. wanted to apologize to you. Formally. You know I'm not much of an apology guy." Trevor shrugged and narrowed his eyes. "Sorry for what?" Michael stood up, taking in a deep breath. "For being a complete and utter jackass to you. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I lied to you after all these years, I'm sorry I got married to a stripper, I'm sorry about everything."

Trevor sighed and waved his arms towards himself. "Come here." Michael blinked, slightly confused. "What?" Trevor reached forward and grabbed Michael's wrist, pulling him closer. Michael's eyes widened slightly, a bit surprised by the sudden pull. "Trevor.. wha- what's going on?" Trevor grinned and looked into his eyes, his thumb rubbing the back of Michael's hand. "Have I ever told you.. your eyes are pretty." Michael shuddered and tried pulling away, shaking his head. The smell of alcohol fuming off of the other so strongly it almost made him sick. "You're drunk, Trevor. You don't mean that." Trevor shook his head. "I ain't drunk, Mikey.." Trevor's grip tightened, making Michael cringe. "Stop it, Trevor! Let me go! I came here to apologize, not to be sexually harassed!" Trevor smirked, leaning down, dragging his tongue across the other's chin. Michael immediately pulled his head back, using his other hand to push against his broad chest. Michael could feel his cheeks growing redder. He turned his head away from him, closing his eyes. '_Fucking hell, Trevor.. The real reason I came over was just so I could see you._' He thought to himself, making a small noise as he felt his hand tighten even more.

"Come on, Mikey.. you enjoy it." Trevor used his other arm and wrapped it around his hips, tugging him closer. Michael bit his lip and shook his head, his fingers curling tightly. '_Fuck, with you saying that, it makes this even more embarrassing. Because I do enjoy this. I enjoy you, I enjoy being around you._' Trevor chuckled and let him go, spinning around and faced the door. "Well, I guess it's time for you to leave." Michael shuddered and dropped to his knees, his entire face burning red. "T-Trevor.. you can't just leave me like this you prick.." Trevor chuckled and looked towards his room. "What do you suggest we do then, Mikey?"


End file.
